


those winter days

by verivala



Series: Grindeldore requests [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Gay Relationship, Dancing, Kissing, Legilimency, M/M, Magic, Pretentious, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 02:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20166904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verivala/pseuds/verivala
Summary: Albus and Gellert dancing in a moonlit room during a secret meeting. Lots of feels.Sort of a sequel tothose summer days





	those winter days

**Author's Note:**

> Anon request from ages ago. Sorry, anon. If you are still out there, I hope you like it
> 
> Prompt: Hello! I LOVE your stories! I just reread "those summer days" and that got me thinking about another fic where Grindeldore dance again. During or after the second movie, they have a truce and it happens. Anyway, just an idea if you like.

"Dance with me."

Albus turned on the bed, surprised by hearing Gellert's voice. Most of the times they met, they did not speak. Their meetings were quiet affairs, both of them aware that if they were to talk, it would evolve into arguments and recriminations. Neither of them wanted that. When they met, they tried to shrug off all their labels, all their duties and loyalties and just be; be together, hidden away from the world, enjoying each other's company, the closeness of their bodies, the intimacy of the other's touch.

Their encounters were more desperate now. In their youth, it had been about joy and exploration and the sudden heady bloom of passion; now, it was longing and anger and regret. It echoed in their gasps. It was written across their bodies; in the scratch of nails against the skin, in ungentle bites decorating their necks. Albus' body ached after every encounter; it was like the ache he felt in his heart written out in red and blue, stark against the paleness of his skin. But it was not yet the destruction they wrought on each other outside these rooms. Albus hoped it would never be. He knew that if it ever became that, whatever remained of the madness of that summer would forever be gone. And even after all the pain it had caused him, Albus would still rather have the bittersweet memory of it than nothing at all.

When they did not have sex, they read together, exchanging thoughts through the meeting of their eyes and the caress of the hands. Sometimes they just lay in bed, touching from ankle to shoulder, trying to bridge the gap between them. Physical touch was not something either of them had ever craved, but lying together in bed, breathing the same air, feeling the rise of the other's chest under their hands, their thoughts entangling together, it was comforting nonetheless. Or perhaps it was just Albus who enjoyed it. Over the years, Gellert had grown harder to read; a coolness setting on his features and thoughts that had not been there in their youth - or at least Albus thought it hadn't been. He could never be as confident he knew Gellert as he had been those two moths, what now felt like aeons ago. Albus had been a different person then, someone he could hardly recognise now. At times, he caught Gellert looking at him as he was a stranger, living in borrowed skin. So perhaps it was not only Albus who felt this strange disconnected, between the person he had known and the person he knew now.

Albus left every meeting simultaneously feeling better and worse. He enjoyed every second he spent with Gellert, but the guilt gnawed at him, demanding a price for his folly. It would have bothered him more if he had not lived with guilt for years now. It had stayed with him since that summer, having latched onto him with the sight of pale hands and the sound a body made when it hit the floor. Guilt was familiar to him now, like an old friend. Sometimes, it comforted him. After all, if he was able to feel this crushing regret, he could not be lost entirely. Not like Gellert was, with the blood on his hands and the laughter on his lips. Sometimes, Albus wondered if Gellert had ever felt guilty about anything at all. He had not asked; he preferred not to think of it when Gellert's hands were touching him.

The mattress dipped as Gellert leaned against it with his knee. "Dance with me," he repeated, his voice quiet as a whisper as he held out a hand to him. Albus looked at him. Gellert was leaning over him, his chest bare and his trousers barely clinging to his hips. His eyes were gleaming in the dark, highlighted by the light of the full moon. The sight of them made Albus blink his eyes, and the man with him was replaced with a younger Gellert, smiling at him in that barn, reaching out to him. _Dance with me._ He thought of the touch of Gellert's hand in his, his delighted smile as Albus had dipped him, the feeling of his body under Albus as they had fallen. The echo of their laughter was still ringing in Albus' ears as he reached out and took Gellert's hand. The covers slipped off Albus' body as he rose from the bed, leaving him standing naked in the cold room. He shivered but felt no embarrassment. Gellert knew him inside out; there was nothing left to hide, not anymore.

Gellert pulled him away from the bed, into the middle of the room where the moon shone in a perfect circle through the window above. Gellert pulled him close, placing his hand on Albus' bare hip, the other lifting Albus right hand to the side. In turn, Albus placed his hand on Gellert's shoulder, sweeping his thumb across his collarbone. Their eyes met, and they started to move in perfect synchronisation. They swept across the floor, the moon playing across their skin as they swept past the window and back, circling and circling, never missing a step. Their dance played in between their minds, their thoughts forming just before the next step, the next turn, the next dip. Albus thought of music, and Gellert's mind echoed with the sounds of Strauss, with the flashes of a matron coaching him, awkwardly stepping on girl's toes, his parents disapproving faces looking on from the hallway. Albus mind responded, supplying Gellert with the awkwardness of dancing with his school mates, the girl giggling as Albus stumbled and stepped on her toes, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable from the proximity of a girl so close to him, whispering into his ear. Gellert thought of how the moonlight illuminated his eyes, and Albus responded with the image of Gellert's pale torso, his black tattoos contrasted against his skin as the moon turned it silver. They thought of magic, and the feel of it swelled between them, right over the cuts on their hands. It rose into the air like the pendant had, surrounding them, leaving flashes of it behind them. It swelled with the rising of the silent symphony playing through their minds, overwhelming their senses and singing in the air between them. Blue and orange flames rose into the air, racing across the room as if chasing each other. They spun faster, and the flames spun too. Faster and faster until Gellert came to a sudden stop and dipped him. They were breathing harshly, but still, they kept looking into each other's eyes. The flames faded slowly, leaving them in the darkness.

Finally, the connection was cut off as Gellert leaned his head against Albus. He pulled Albus back up, and they continued their dance. They slowed their pace as they leaned against each other, pulling their bodies closer, skin warm against skin in the chilly air of the room. Gellert's breath came in warm puffs against Albus' lips, his moustache tickling the skin just at the top. Albus felt fragile, as if he would break at any moment. He dragged his lips against Gellert's cheek, hiding his face into the crook of Gellert's shoulder. Gellert drew him closer; their whole bodies now pressed together. The fabric of Gellert's trousers dragged against the bare skin of Albus' legs. He lay a kiss on Gellert's neck and breathed in his scent. They were barely moving now, just swaying slowly in place. Gellert's hand came to rest on top of Albus' head, caressing his hair.

Eventually, they came to a stop. Albus stayed in Gellert's arms a moment longer, soaking in the touch before letting go. He opened his eyes. He was standing just at the edge of the moonlit carpet, and Gellert was standing in front of him, in the shadow, untouched by the light. A tear trickled down his cheek, and Gellert raised his hand and, gently, wiped it away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, consider leaving a comment. I procrastined on my thesis for this xd
> 
> My Tumblr: bloodtroth


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